Brotherhood Tales
by Cherry chain
Summary: Two years ago Perotto's betrayal destroyed the Assassins in Roma. Now Ezio is determined to once again fight the Templars where their power is strongest. This is the story of those who fight for freedom. A series of short stories about the recruits.
1. The Fire

_"Forgive me for this act of cowardice. I can not stand the thought of my blood on the blades of my former Brothers and no doubt the act of taking my life will weigh heavily on the shoulders of those I had called friend. Thus I take my life with my own hands to spare us all of that cruel encounter._

_I have one final request to make. My daughter, Zita. I have sent her and my wife away. Do not pursue them. I know that the years of training I have imparted her is invaluable to the Brotherhood, but please, do not make her an Assassin. I have prepared her for the role all her life but now I know what a tragedy it would be to bloody her innocent hands._

_I am sorry for the Brothers that have died at my hands, but I will not apologize for my actions. Perotto's son deserved to live, though I regret that it had come to the death of Brothers. I hope the boy grows up to know that he owes me nothing._

_Goodbye."_

This letter, this crumpled, stained, tattered old piece of paper clutched in my hands is the last thing I have of my father's. It was his suicide note. I did not find it until five years after his death, as Master Ezio handed it to me the day I left the Brotherhood.

When he gave me that note, with the quiet apology that he had not shown me it earlier, I had hated him. Ezio had brought me into the shadows, taught me to hunt and kill, to interrogate, lie, cheat, poison... to become an Assassin. And this entire time he knew that he was going against my father's final will.

The note itself did not drive me from the Brotherhood, though it had been the final straw; the Master gave it to me as I was packing. No, I spent far too long learning the unpleasant art of inflicting death. I saw the brutality of the Templars -god damn them all to hell- but I saw it mirrored within our own actions.

For years I could not let go of my hatred, my feeling of having been manipulated and lied to. Master Ezio was truly sorry for keeping the note from me though, and his powerful connections helped me build my new life in Firenze, the city of his birth. I never remarried, never had children. The loss of my first husband and child still stung too acutely for me to even consider moving on to another man.

I blamed Ezio for much more than just the note over the years. I unfairly placed the responsibility for my family's death on his shoulders, as well as the loss of my dear friend Marco. He willingly takes burden for both, for he had been the one to wield the knife that spilled Enrico's blood and his hand had held The Apple which had taken the life from Marco.

But as I stare at the flames now, today, I felt it all melting away. He had done whatever he could for the good of the Brotherhood and the people. He took me into the shadows but he took me off the streets, gave me a roof over my head and food on the table. He taught me to bloody my hands so that others would live free.

He killed Enrico because he had to in order to ensure the following of the Creed we all swore by. My husband understood this, just as my father understood when he wrote his final words. And though Ezio was the one who had lost control of The Apple, he had managed to win back his dominance over it in the end. In the hands of any lesser man they would have been consumed by The Apple's power and many more lives would have been lost.

At this moment, I sudden realize that I lost my chance to tell him of my forgiveness. I know that the blame I put on him had been a constant burden for him over the years. But he's gone now. I stare at the fire, and thought of all the others standing beside me. I held my father's note, and with a sigh I brought it forward into the flames.

It caught quickly. The edges of the paper crinkled and folded in on themselves as the blackened edges burned away. The fire worked its way inwards even as the flames ate a hole through the centre until soon the words were no longer there and all that was left was specks of black soot that swirled around the flames.

_I forgive you, and I'm sorry._ I hoped that somehow, The Master could hear me. So that he can finally let go of the guilt I had forced upon him and rest in peace. I hoped this as I stood among the crowd of Brothers in their white robes and black armbands, celebrating the life of Ezio Auditore at his funeral pyre.

* * *

AN: This is the prologue. It wasn't meant to be all that long. And yes I killed Ezio. He was bound to die at some point anyways since he's human, and this scene takes place in an undefined number of years after 1507.

Anyways, as a quick introduction, this will be a series of short stories concerning Ezio's recruits. When I played Brotherhood I found myself putting backstories and personalities on at lot of them, and I decided one day I wanted to flesh some of them out. I will attempt to keep this mostly in chronological order and as a sort of experiment it will all be written in first-person. And they'll all take place between 1500 and 1503.

I will have 6 "main" characters, but every once in a while we might get a story from one of the more minor recruits. Of these six characters, three of them are the canonical recruits of Ezio we learn about in Project Legacy. The other three some of you may recognize their names, for they were recruits that I personally had in my Brotherhood file.

Anyways, thank you for reading and enjoy.

* * *

Animus Files: I will have these at the end of most chapters detailing anything interesting that popped up in my research for that chapter. Since Assassin's Creed technically does take place in our world, I try my best to be as historically and canonically accurate as possible. Of course I won't spent hours researching everything, but attempts will be made at keeping things reasonable.

Nothing too exciting for the prologue. Apparently cremation wasn't all that popular back in the Renaissance, but I had already written this by then so I decided to ignore that. Most of the funeral rites stuff really didn't apply to Ezio anyways because I doubt it's safe for the Assassins to hold some fancy public funeral in a church.


	2. Enter Zita Zanovelli

The first question many people would ask is how he died. I wasn't there for it, so I will leave that story to another. In fact, I doubt many would care to tell of his death. It is so...inconsequential, so insignificant against the glory of his life. And of him in life is a story I am very willing to tell- as far as it is safe to for me and the Brotherhood to do so of course.

My time with him was brief in the span of my lifetime, a mere three years. And though those years were filled with grief and inner turmoil, it was also full of joy.

I was his first recruit. That day in 1500, as Ezio talked with Machiavelli on the bridge from Tiber Island, explaining his plans to recruit the oppressed, I watched him with hungry eyes. Something happened in the Vatican that day, and the guard over this area of the city was relaxed in order to concentrate their attention around the Castel Sant'Angelo.

It was an opportunity I could not ignore. For more than a year I had stalked the streets of Roma on my own, stealing what I could to survive. By 1500 I was barely scraping together enough to live, and my days were numbered. I had adapted poorly to street life, having spent most of my life with a relatively well-off merchant family. The only reason I stilled lived was the training given to me by my father, of stealth both social and not, and of the art of freerunning.

It was probably that desperation which drove me to that almost certainly suicidal act. The target I picked was obviously well armed, armoured, and trained. His equipment was all of fine material and hinted at his wealth. I snuck behind him with all the stealth I could muster, brushed aside his white cape, and with trembling hands relieved him of his rather heavy coin pouch.

I still remember my surprise as he reacted immediately and grabbed my arm. His grip was strong, but my reflexes and training won out. I broke his grip before he had even realized his own actions and I ran for it. Though my instincts drove me onwards, my mind was not on the rather important business of escaping alive. It was reeling in shock, for I had glimpsed my target clearly during the split-second he had turned.

For perhaps the first second I thought that he was my father. I very quickly dispelled the notion, for though the man was about my father's age he could not have been here in Roma. My father had died when me and my mother fled Agnadello -the small town I grew up in- two years prior. But those white robes were unmistakable. The details of the design differed, but both this man and my father wore the red sash belt, over which was an iron feathered teardrop insignia.

I could not take the time to ponder such things, for my target had initiated a chase. He ran surprisingly fast for one of his age and for the vast amount of equipment he carried, and was catching up to me. Terrified, -for to be caught a thief was to die (or worse)- I shoved my way through the crowd and made my way for the wall.

I kicked off from the ground and used my momentum to walk up the first section of the wall, going as high as I could before grabbing the ledge of a window. I climbed quickly and scrambled onto the roof. Most pursuers left me at this stage, seeing the climb as not worth the effort for retrieving what small amount of coin I had managed to snatch. I had managed to take quite a large sum this time though, and I guess my target was not willing to lose it.

When he appeared over the edge of the roof behind me, I had not been too worried. I continued running and making my way from roof to roof, chimney to chimney, more agile and refined of technique than the common thieves of Roma. It was when I realized that he was keeping pace with me through this rooftop chase, gaining ground even, that I knew I was in big trouble. This man moved with fluidity that I possessed -and strength that I did not. He was more practised than me, and though my youth gave me a distinct advantage, my malnourished arms tired and I struggled to climb each new obstacle while he went over them with ease.

Out of breath, my body screaming in protest, pleading for me to stop running, stop climbing, stop jumping, I was quickly losing hope. When I heard the customary words of a nearby archer- "You're not allowed up here!" My heart dropped as I heard the _click_ of a crossbow. I reacted with lightning reflexes, throwing myself to the side. The bolt got my arm, tore right through flesh.

I turned to face my attacker, and was more than a little surprised to see that my target, a mere blur of white, drew a weapon and engaged the guard. I did not question my good luck and turned, running for the edge of the roof. I clutched at my injured arm, the blood flowing freely between my fingers but in my moment of panic I could barely feel the pain.

I knew this place well, and I trusted my memory enough to throw myself off the roof down below to where they kept the hay stored for the stables beside it. I landed safely in the hay, which parted to envelope me, hiding me from the world. Some may have noticed my hurried descent, but there was nothing I could do about it except pray that none would stay around to investigate.

Only moments later though, the hay around me shifted and I grunted in pain as the movement sent a jolt up my arm. The next thing I knew a strong hand had me by my upper arm and hauled me to my feet, out of the hay pile. I stumbled out, cutting off my cry of surprise as I saw my target standing there calmly, wiping the hay off of his clothing. There was red on the end of his left sleeve, standing out clearly against the white cloth.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I began to blubber immediately. "Please don't kill me. I was hungry and I didn't know what I was doing- and then you were just there and I saw...but you..." It was the usual refrain of a caught thief, usually falling on deaf ears. He silenced me with a dismissive hand gesture, holding up his other hand with a playful smirk. Somehow, as I was begging for my life, he had managed to steal back his money pouch, for there it was in his hand. I had not even noticed the slightest motion or change in weight upon my belt.

The following conversation changed my life forever, and I can still remember every word.

"You are quite agile. Who taught you how to climb and run with such skill, to have Faith?"

He had been able to tell. My movements were practised, trained, unlike that of the self-taught thieves. My techniques were those of the Assassins, and certainly the Leap of Faith I had performed, in all of the right positions, was not normal. He saw an Assassin in me, and this had led him to aid me against the archer and to spare my life (Not that Ezio usually killed those who tried to separate him from his coin, as I would later find out).

"My father." I had told him, my answer given without pause, mostly out of fear. But something about my answer, and the knowing look in his eyes as I spoke the words, convinced me of the link this man must have had to my father. So I could not stop myself from asking. "He is-...was Augusto Zanovelli da Agnadello. I have seen him in robes like yours...would you have known him?"

He had considered this for many tense moments before finally nodding.

"...not personally, no. But I have heard the stories." He extended his hand towards me, and helped me to my feet. He grabbed his cape then and tore off a long, thick strip with his knife. He wrapped up the wound torn through my arm, and took me with him to a nearby doctor. I could only give my thanks over and over again as he paid for the treatment, not understanding his actions at all.

As we left, many hours later, he simply turned his back to me and gestured for me to follow him. I knew that he was giving me a choice, was allowing me to simply run away and he would seek no retribution. But he had set his bait well. I followed. I needed to know about this man who showed such kindness to a street rat -one who had stolen from him no less- as well as to find out the truth about my father.

As he led me back towards Tiber Island, where I would find his hideout to be that of the old warehouse in the centre of the Island, I gathered the courage to introduce myself. I told him my name was Zita. He gave me his name in response, and I remember my shock at hearing it.

Ezio Auditore. The Eagle. Of course I knew about him; The Assassin had reached legendary status within Italia. I remember the one thought that struck me like a bolt: _I had tried to steal from the Assassin._

Thinking back on it now, I had an amazing stroke of luck. Of all the people I could have tried to pickpocket that day!

After he took me to his hideout, I met Machiavelli and the two of them worked together to explain to me about "The Brotherhood". Ezio was more than surprised to find that I had no knowledge of the Assassin Order. The Master promised to tell me about my father once he finds all the details.

I rested and recovered for several days. For the first time in two years I had food on the table, a permanent roof over my head, a warm bed to sleep in. My arm healed cleanly without infection, though it left me with a scar. During this time Ezio often came in with people in various states of injury. Most had been in fights with guards. I helped Ezio tend to each one, and those who had nothing to go back to swore their allegiance to the Master and gave their life for the Brotherhood.

I did so as well, and became an Assassin. After those first few weeks there was three of us. When my arm mended enough for me to begin training, I joined The Master and the other two out into the streets of Roma. Though the other recruits were far more knowledgeable in the art of combat than I, I enjoyed the position of being the best free-runner amongst us.

And thus it was to me that Ezio gave the first test to.

I was up on the roof, sitting on the edge of the viewpoint overlooking the river and enjoying the view. Ezio had called off training early today, and had left to do something. He asked for me to stay at the hideout and wait for him. It didn't take him long to return and find me at my favourite spot. I got to my feet as I heard the door behind me open, and I caught the coin pouch he tossed at me almost without thought.

"That's for food, lodgings, and bribes if need be." He told me as I examined the contents of the pouch. A few hundred Florins. I felt nervous even holding such a large sum, and I waited for Ezio's explanation.

"Your assignment is to find out everything you can about someone known as 'La Volpe'. You will report back to me your findings in three days."

At first I had thought that this was a real assignment, and I had been quite excited. I immediately asked the obvious question in such a scenario.

"What can you tell me about him?" I had asked, and he broke into a grin.

"Ah, but information comes at a price."

It was then that I knew that it was a test of my abilities. He did not actually need information on La Volpe. I had shown promise in my training, and he needed to figure out exactly where my father left off. So I asked him what the "price" was. He told me that he'd give me a hint but in exchange he'd put a restriction on my search. I agreed; a starting point was too valuable to pass up.

He told me that during my task, I was not allowed to mention or even hint at my connection to the Assassins. I waited for more, but he was done. So I set off with my Master's coin, pondering the restriction which was at the same time my hint.

And this is how I end up meeting Tessa Varzi.

* * *

AN: Zita was one of my first recruits and the first to reach rank 10. She was also one of my first recruits on my second file. Marco Melozzi also showed up on both of my playthroughs, being the first recruit for my second.

I struggled quite a bit with the ending. I want there to be a flow from one character to the other and explaining the beginning of her mission allows me to do this, but it also kind of ruins the actual "ending" of her story. I'm going to keep it like this and hope it works, but I may come back and redo it if I get a better idea of how to handle the transition. I only have 2 more recruitment stories before I dive more into the actual lifestyle of the apprentices.

You might have noticed that I didn't really include all the details I could have. Since Zita joined the day Ezio infiltrated the Castel Sant'Angelo, Caterina Sforza would have been at the hideout for at least a few weeks to recover from her ordeal. But since this is written on a recollection basis, it's clear to us that Zita really doesn't see Caterina as all that important. They don't ever meet again after all.

A big challenge was keeping in mind that I'm writing _short_ stories. My original document for this chapter was 10,000 words long.

* * *

Animus Files: I did some research into how much a florin was actually worth and holy geez. There is no actual concrete number because that is rather difficult to pin down, but each florin coin has about 3.5g of gold and was worth quite a chunk. Which means that in the game Ezio was extremely well off. In the end I decided not to specify the exact amount of money I gave Zita mostly because I didn't want to giver her an amount that was too ridiculous, though "a few hundred" is probably already quite a bit. At least it's reasonable by the game standards?

And about Zita's father's name. You probably have figured it out already but back then in Italy people liked to take surnames that indicated their profession, where they came from, or their ancestry. "Ezio Auditore Da Firenze" means Ezio Auditore from Florence. "Leonardo Da Vinci" means Leonardo from Vinci. Thus "Augusto Zanovelli da Agnadello" means Augusto Zanovelli from Agnadello. Agnadello is a small town in northern Italy, and those who have played Project Legacy may recognize its importance, and those who read his suicide letter carefully can probably tell what mess I tangled her story up with.


	3. Enter Tessa Varzi

I was Ezio's fifth recruit. The first was Zita, then Stefano, Rafaele, Lorenzo, and me. But unlike most other recruits, Ezio did not find me. I found him.

In 1500 I was pretty well off. My father ran an apothecary, and I had picked up much from him over the years. After he died and I took over the shop, people were surprised at how well I was doing. None of them knew the true source of my profits though.

I had very close ties to the Thieve's guild. There was this one thief you see, who had saved me from a group of guards when I was younger. He is long dead but I trained with him for years, and though it took me some time to convince my dad to accept him, our connections with the guild grew in our favour.

Though I promised father I strictly took in and tended to their sick and wounded, I was also dabbling in poisons. I figured out very quickly that the thieves were more than they seemed, and they were rather interested at my skill in handling substances that could produce...various results within the human body.

At one point I had an affair with Gilberto -that's La Volpe by the way, though he dislikes using his real name- but that didn't last very long. The relationship was dropped with grace and we remained on good terms if not as close friends. But that short jaunt taught me much about the inner workings of the Thieve's guild- and of the Assassins. Though I did not learn much about the Brotherhood, the fact I knew of their existence probably saved Zita's life.

After I closed up for shop one day I retired to a nearby inn, "I battenti pugnale" to enjoy a drink or two. It was shabby and kind of run down, frequented by members of the thieves. I kept up my contacts with the guild through here.

I saw her the first day, a girl, barely a woman, sitting by herself at the bar. She seemed out of place and it was obvious by her posture that she felt it too. She stayed quiet, had not much to drink, some food, and turned down all advances by strangers. She simply sat there and listened. I didn't think much of this, especially as she did not appear the next day.

On the third day though, she was back. I checked in on the inn in the morning on my way to my Apothecary, and there was the same girl again. She had struck up conversation with the barkeep and a few of the patrons. When I heard her enquiring about La Volpe, I stayed.

She was obviously a novice at collecting information. Her questions were obvious, her speech unnatural, and she couldn't lose the air of nervousness about her, or of hiding her eagerness when it seemed she would get an answer.

The barkeep saw all this too, and he played her easily. Yes I have heard of him. Oh, just a bunch of stories. Oh of course I'm sure, just something to make the kids behave. Huh interesting, you're sure about that? She revealed much more about her quest and got very little out of the barkeeper.

Frustrated, she moved on to the patrons of the inn. To her credit she managed to get one thief to stumble into admitting his allegiance to the thieves' guild, but at that point he outright threatened her if she continued and she promptly stopped. It was then I decided that I had to do something.

Her questions made me nervous. "What do you know about La Volpe?" "Is he really the leader of the guild?" "Where does he stay?" "Do you know anyone who is close?" Though she was more subtle than that, I saw them clearly for what they were. I slipped a note to one of the thieves and left the inn unnoticed by the girl.

I went and opened my small apothecary and went to work as usual, though I carefully pocketed a small pile of fine powder wrapped with paper. Good thing I never found a use for the deadly substance that day. She came to my shop much later than I had anticipated, but she came nonetheless, guided by the information I had left for the thieves to tell her.

The moment she stepped through the door I made myself look busy, measuring out some dosage of medication for one man who had been seeing me about a terrible rash on his arm that would not go away.

I let her browse for a few minutes before dusting my hands off, washing it in the bin of boiled water I constantly kept in the back and stepped up to the counter.

"May I help you madame?" I asked and she looked up at me and hesitated for a second before speaking.

"Yes, I am looking for the owner of this-"

"You're looking at her. What do you need?" I interrupted her. I gave her some time to take this in, and she looked visibly more nervous.

"Ah well, I'm here to pick up an order. Michelle ran into a bit of trouble and couldn't pick up the, ah..." She glanced behind herself at the door and leaned in towards me so that she could lower her voice. "...cantarella." She finished.

I blinked in surprise at the sudden turn in events. She had somehow gathered much more information than I had left for her to find. I continued as if normal though, and motioned for her to wait. She stood patiently at the counter as I went across it into the main section of the shop.

"Wait, what are you doing? Surely you don't keep your poisons out in the main-" She began to protest when my actions finally registered as strange to her. I leaped for the door and bolted it closed, turning back to the girl.

She stood there shocked as I took out a dagger.

"What did you do to Michelle?" I asked, my voice dangerous.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" She cried, one hand fumbling for her belt. Wrong move. I leaped forward and before she could blink my blade was at her throat. My other hand grabbed her wrist and forced it away from the short blade hidden at her side.

"I told him to send you my way. How did you know he was to pick up an order? How did you know of my poisons? What did you do to him?" I asked her, and I made it clear that I would not stand for lies or stalling. I had her backed up against the counter, my blade forcing her head to turn up towards the ceiling. She struggled with herself for a moment and I decided to make my point clearer. I drew a bead of blood and she cried out.

"He's fine! I bribed him to tell me about everything and to allow me to come get the poison in his stead." She told me frantically. I frowned in disappointment. I knew that the thieves found it hard to keep their loyalty in the face of money, but for something that so obviously involved the Master himself, I had expected more of them.

"Why are you looking for La Volpe? Who sent you?"

"I wasn't looking for-"

"Yes you were. I heard you at the Inn. Maybe you should pay more attention to who's around you. Tell me, _now_, or I'll find what I can off your corpse."

She gulped, her throat stretching tight against my fine blade.

"Ezio. Ezio Auditore sent me."

I reacted with hardly a thought. I dropped my blade, grabbed her roughly by the shoulder with my now-free hand, spun her around and forced her onto the counter, her arms pinned behind her back. I wished that I had someone to help me restrain her, but I was left to deal with her on my own. Good thing she was a coward and did not fight back; I would have had my hands full otherwise. I slammed her against the edge of the counter and she cried out in pain.

"Now why would the Assassin send someone to gather information about La Volpe? The Assassin would never betray the Thieve's guild. Is this some pathetic plot by the Borgia to sow disunity inside the Brotherhood?" If the Borgia knew about the Thieve's involvement with the Assassins...what about the Courtesans and the Mercanaries? They would be hit hardest by the recognition.

She was frantic at this point, and I could feel her shaking in my grip.

"No, no. It's just a training exercise. I'm one of his apprentices! Master Ezio was testing me."

"Oh really now? Then tell me about Ezio. Where is the Assassin hideout?"

"The old warehouse on Tiber Island!" I didn't doubt her words, though I did not know the answer to the question myself. If she was one of Ezio's Assassins, she was a sorry excuse for one.

"We're going for a little walk then."

I kept a tight grip on her arms as I dragged her to the back of the shop with me, ignoring her pleading as I scanned for what I was looking for and found it. I let go of her to free one hand and snatched a small bottle off the shelf. I popped the cork out with my mouth -being more than just a little careful not to ingest any of the contents myself-, forced her head back, and got several drops down her protesting throat.

I let go of her, and in the same motion pulled her dagger from her side as she hacked and coughed on the bitter liquid.

"What did you do to me!" She demanded as I tied the short blade securely at my side, mostly obscured by the sash I wore as a belt.

"Oh don't worry about it. The poison won't take effect for hours and we'll have had a talk with Ezio by then. Don't you even think about running away. That poison's my own special blend and don't you doubt its lethality. No doctor can save you. Just hope that the Master Assassin vouches for you."

I went to the door and unlocked it.

"Now let's get to the hideout. Don't you get any ideas. I'll make the antidote once I'm sure you're who you say you are."

"Wait, you don't have the antidote?" She exclaimed, rather shocked.

OK yeah, I was a bit of a jerk, I know. But it was effective and she cooperated with me the entire way. She obediently led me to the Tiber Island. I was surprised at how large and prominent the building was- most of the Thieves' safe houses were very well hidden and out of the way.

Ezio -at least I assumed he was Ezio, as he was the only one in proper Assassin Robes- and two novices in their greyish robes were in the main hall, the latter two watching as the former showed them how to properly attach a hidden blade and bracer to their arms. All three looked up sharply as Zita opened the front door and I followed in behind.

"Welcome back Zita. Who's this?" Ezio gestured to me. His posture looked relaxed and nonthreatening, but I knew about his Hidden Blade. There was no such thing as an Assassin unprepared for battle.

"A friend. Are you Ezio?" I asked, and the Master Assassin nodded. This girl -whom I now knew was named Zita- kept her mouth shut, probably because of a mix of fear, embarrassment, and rage. "So this girl here is one of yours?"

"She is one of my recruits, yes. What is the meaning of this?"

I summed up the situation as briefly as I could. "...oh, and don't worry about her. I didn't give her a lethal dose. Nowhere close. There is no antidote though, so she's just going to have to tough it out for tonight." I ended, drawing a look of disbelief from Zita, which very quickly gave in to anger.

Ezio intervened before she could start having a fit, and told me to stay while he led her into another room. His two apprentices both watched me nervously, and they didn't stop me from getting a little close to the door and eavesdropping in on the conversation.

It wasn't all that exciting of a conversation. He asked her if she was OK, and she replied that she was fine. That answer would change in a few hours, but at the time she would only be slightly nauseous. Then he asked her to explain everything she had learned and she began to do so. I have to say, I was quite impressed with how much she had been able to gather. She had learned of La Volpe's leadership role in the guild, its connection to the Assassins, several of his contacts including myself...and considering how secretive La Volpe was, it was quite a bit if information for three day's work.

He got one of the other recruits to get her to her room where she could rest and recover, mostly from the ordeal I put her through. Then he came to talk to me.

"That was...quite impressive." Was his first comment.

"La Volpe trained me well." I replied.

"Indeed."

We had a quick chat. He seemed determined to pry from me anything that could help with Zita's poisoning. I eventually caved in and told him that I'd do what I could to help her through it. I went back to my shop and retrieved everything I needed and brewed some tea that would ease the pain and help her sleep. It was during this time that I considered joining. I was missing some components but Ezio's contacts with Doctors on the Tiber Island gave me quick, easy access.

I left the hideout after having left quite an impression. A week later I returned. He had added an extra recruit to the Brotherhood in that time period, and was out training all four of them. Machiavelli allowed me to stay and wait for their return, and we shared a rather hostile silence. I never trusted Machiavelli. I have heard too much of the evidence of his betrayal from La Volpe to be easy in his presence.

When Ezio returned, all of his apprentices looking exhausted and ready to fall asleep where they stood, I asked to join him.

"No offence, but I think you'll need some help training them. I can help with that. Your use of poisons can also use a little refining; the one you use currently used has too obvious of effects and can be too easily traced to you. You won't find anyone more skilled in the use of poisons than me."

And that was how I became an Assassin. I got to a rather...bad start with Zita, and my arrogance lead me into much trouble, but things worked out well for me in the end. I ended the legal side of my business, for it was not attracting much revenue anyways, and moved my workshop to the Tiber Island Hideout.

I did this mostly to serve my own interests. Having powerful connections was always beneficial, and now I was able to completely dodge under the tax collectors of the Borgia. Ezio was quite handy with money -I later learned that as a child he had almost been destined to be a _banker_ of all things- and I was never short of whatever I needed.

It wasn't long after I joined though that I began to realize the cause of the Brotherhood and why they fight. Marco Melozzi's story tugged at my heart, and upon meeting him I truly realized our purpose.

And from then on I would fight to the death to uphold the Creed.

* * *

AN: Don't worry, this is the last female recruit I'll focus on. Zita was just important to me specifically and Tessa here is an important character from Legacy. I didn't mean to make her such an arrogant jerk but it happened and I'm curious as to how to continue. I'm really going to enjoy using her skills with poisons though. She did some pretty amazing things in Project Legacy. You'd think with her around Ezio would have had access to some poisons of different effects. Though I guess gameplay-wise players really wouldn't have cared. A dead guard is a dead guard no matter how you kill them.

* * *

Animus Files: The Inn, "I battenti pugnale" means "The Flying dagger". Lame, I know. I just threw the first thing that came to mind at an Italian translator.

I did a bit of research on poisons used in the Renaissance. Arsenic and the Death Cap were the only real poisons I could find, although I'm pretty sure there was more available to them at the time. Anything if used correctly could potentially be poisonous after all. Of interest is what is believed to be a variation of Arsenic Poison (Arsenic, by the way, is very similar chemically to phosphorous which our body uses to build our DNA and other biological molecules. It is so toxic to us because our body tries to use it like Phosphorous.) called Cantarella, which was used a lot by the Borgia Family. In fact, the poison Rodrigo had put into the apple in an attempt to kill Cesare was Cantarella (In the game. In real life Rodrigo died of the Influenza which Cesare also caught at around the same time but he survived since he was strong and healthy and not a fat 71-year-old).

Leonardo Da Vinci also did a lot of experimentation with poisons. Made some Potassium-Cyanide filled fruits. Too bad the concentration was so low a person had to eat them for weeks before they would die from it. Fun topic eh? There's actually a lot of stuff on poisoning in renaissance Italy like the "Council of Ten" from Venice, but I'll stop before my fanfiction turns into a History Lesson.


	4. Enter Marco Melozzi

AN: Eh, sorry it's been so long. I never intended for this to be something regularly updated anyways. This is the first male recruit I actually write about. You might remember this character from the beginning of Brotherhood. When I first played I had expected Ezio to take him as the first recruit.

* * *

Not a day goes by that I do not think of my dear Livia.

At first I had been consumed by despair after her death. Then an overwhelming need for revenge. And now simple acceptance. No amount of much pain I inflict on the Templar bastards will bring her back to me. Thus my blade strikes now for a higher purpose, though I will not deny that spilling their blood gives me much satisfaction.

Livia...she was beautiful, in both body and spirit. I was but a simple labourer. She had so much potential but she decided to cast it away for me, for our love. We built a life together, just us two, and our children.

Then one day, she did not come home. A neighbour told me what had happened. My entire world came crashing down. I ran as fast as I could, but by the time I got there...

The lever had already been pulled. She was in her last moments, thrashing as the rope...her neck...

I tried to stop him, that monster, Il Carnefice. But being the coward I was I could not act when he threatened me as well. I watched my Livia die as that horrid demon told me of what he had done to my beloved. As the crowd dispersed I could only kneel in front of the platform and cry. Il Carnefice forbade me from cutting her down. I could not bring myself to defy him. I told myself that I was thinking of the kids, so that they would still have a father, but I knew that it was simple cowardice.

Then came the Master. Il Carnefice did not intend to play fair. He had send soldiers to dispose of me as well. I could hear them coming up behind him, the creak of their armour, the stamp of their boots, the sound of weapons being drawn. I prepared myself for the blow, unable to turn back and face my death.

And in that moment the Master in his white cloak came. He killed them all and came up beside me. He told me that he understood. I shot back that no, no he does not. How can anybody understand the twisting agony within me, of the guilt and the grief and the sheer helplessness? I was nothing in the grand scheme of things; people with power did what they wanted, and destroyed on whim the lives we commoners work so hard to build.

I barely paid heed to him at the time. Part of me was bitter that he had saved me from a better fate, for surely nothing in the fires of Hell could torture me as I was. At the time he told me that he too had lost his family, but I could not hear him. I told him of my own plight, of Il Carnefice's threat that prevented me from giving my beloved proper last rites. He told me that he would handle it, that I should take Livia down when I was ready to do so.

After he left I finally gained the courage to do what was right. I did not believe the Man in the white hood at the time, fully sure that I was to be killed for defying The executioner. I buried Livia out in the countryside by myself, unable to tell my sons and daughter of what had transpired.

But they didn't come for me. As the weeks passed rumours spread about a White Angel of Death in Roma. I knew it was him. He had killed Il Carnefice, just like he said he would. The rumours grew in magnitude. He was the one who had been burning down the centres of Borgia control, had infiltrated the Castello to the Holy Family themselves!

It was then that the soldiers arrived at my door.

I was working at the time, fixing a scythe that had come a loose. There was a strong knock at my door, but I thought little of it. I told my youngest son, Luca to answer the door. He left the room to do so. I then heard a loud commotion and Lucas's terrified scream. I dropped what I was working and rushed to the front door.

There were soldiers there. Luca was crying, backing away as one of the soldiers threatened him with a blade. My eldest son, Pietro rushed past me, yelling at the soldiers to leave his little brother alone. He rushed to Luca's side and shielded the young boy behind him. The soldiers just laughed but they turned their attention to me.

I stood frozen at the doorway. After so long I had hoped that what had happened with Livia was behind me. That I had lost enough and that I would be allowed to try and pull back together the shattered remains of my world.

I don't remember the rest of the encounter clearly. They asked me about the Assassin. When I told them I knew nothing, they became aggressive. They tried to force me to talk, but I had nothing to tell them. Luca's crying, my daughter Amelia's screams as a soldier found her hiding under the desk.

My son Pietro, my brave, brave son Pietro, threw himself against the soldier.

"Luca! Take Amelia and run!" He had yelled, as the surprised soldier pried him off and threw him to the ground. I darted forward and grabbed Amelia in my arms, held my other son's hand, and made a break for the door. I wasn't thinking clearly, didn't know what to do. I ran as fast as I could, but Luca could not keep up. I picked him up too, but I could not hold the both of my Children and maintain my speed. I cried for help, but there were no people around. It was still early in the morning.

I don't know how, but what seemed like forever later I was collapsed at a church, muttering incoherently as the priest tried to calm me down. I told him to protect my children, to not allow them any harm and the priest promised me. He promised.

I hardly knew my own actions after that, only that I had to go save my son Pietro. I went back to my house, but it was on fire. They had burned it down. I collapsed in front of it as the flames engulfed what remained of my life. A neighbour found me like that, and told me they had taken Pietro away. They had not killed him.

I guess it was then that I hatched my insane plan. That somehow I could threaten the Borgia to give my son back. I made my way through the city towards one of those cursed towers they built. There were soldiers everywhere. I tackled one to the ground. He never expected it, I wrestled the sword from his grasp with strength I did not know I have and I stabbed him, stabbed him as hard as I could repeatedly as I cried.

The other soldiers were on me then. I got to my feet shakily, waving my sword wildly. I knocked one of them into another and I tried to kill the both of them. The blade would not pierce armour though, and the soldier behind me tried to attack. I don't know how -sheer luck probably- but I avoided the attack and I ran the sword's edge along his hand so that he screamed and dropped his blade.

I could not keep this up forever. I was confused, half-hoping to die, somehow thinking that maybe this way I could save my son. I got a dozen wounds, some only scratches, others that bled profusely. It was then that the Master came again, though I did not recognize him at first.

A dark shadow descended from above, landing on one of the unsuspecting soldiers. He was dead before he knew it. I could only stare dumbly as the shadow took the soldier's sword and with movements so quick they could not be human, killed the rest of the guards with ease.

He turned to me, his blue embroidered shirt dark with blood. I did not recognized him with his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. But somehow I knew, even before he spoke and his voice confirmed it. It was him, the White Angel who came to me the day Livia died.

"What happened?" he asked sharply. Somehow, I found the presence of mind to answer.

"They came for me- they took my son, oh God my son. They wanted to know about you, Signore, they knew it was you, that I saw you!" I made little sense, but he seemed to understand.

"Lorenzo, get this man to the hideout. Tessa, find the others and bring them here."

Two white blurs seemed to detach themselves from the shadow, one heading down the street and the other coming at me me. He approached me cautiously and carefully pried the sword out of my hand. He then swung my arm over his shoulder, and half carried me into the alleyway. He was talking the entire time to help calm me, but I heard little of it.

We came to the edges of the buildings, so that the farmland of Roma stretched out before us. It was getting dark, the sun half-visible over the horizon. It was then that we heard a loud crack, and we both looked back to see the tall tower in flames. A moment later it exploded, the entire structure collapsing down onto the city below.

The man who was with my shook his head and kept us moving. Eventually I found myself inside a large stone building, where Lorenzo sat me down on a chair. A man came out of another room, asking what was going on.

It all went by in a haze but perhaps an hour later the door opened and several forms walked in. All were wearing greyish-white robes except the Master, who was still in plain clothes. He came straight up to me.

"Calm down. I need you to tell me everything that had happened. You mentioned earlier that they took your son. Do you know where they took him?" He asked, and I struggled to keep myself together.

"Pietro...? They took Pietro...I don't know...my children are at the Church...Holy Trinity..."

He got up and patted me on the shoulder reassuringly.

"I will get your son back."

Ezio was a man who kept his promises. That night he donned his Assassin's robes, strapped on his hidden blades and checked his weapons.

The next morning I was woken by my son's embrace.

We all owe so much to the Master. Me and my son both became apprentices. For their safety I sent Luca and Amelia to Tuscany, to a small city of Siena where there was a Stronghold of Brotherhood supporters who were willing to take them in. I saw little of them, but I knew that they lived well. One day perhaps they would don the hood and join me and Pietro.

With me and my son, that made seven of Ezio's apprentices. It was then that he wrote to a chapter of the Brotherhood in Venice, requesting more experienced Assassins and recruits alike to help him train us.

* * *

AN: Next is then, of course, going to be Francesco Vecellio if you're familiar with Project Legacy. I've debated writing about Enu, but decided against it. I just really don't know enough about Renaissance Africa and Africa's Assassin order to really be able to write anything significant.

I'd love to get past the next chapter. I can finally then start getting into stories about the training and the like.

Oh yeah, the timing wasn't a coincident. I finished this half-written chapter because I was excited about Revelation. Ezio was a complete idiot for charging into that veritable army without drawing a weapon (No Ezio, the Hidden Blade is not a good open-melee weapon.) even if he managed to look really cool. And whoever the new bald Templar is obviously doesn't know just who Ezio is. If I was a Templar and I managed to capture Ezio alive, I would very quickly rectify the "he's alive" situation and stab him dead immediately before he breaks free and kills half my underlings. You just know that Ezio's going to kick the guy off the platform at the end and kill everyone there singlehandedly.


	5. Enter Enrico Emilione

AN: after a bit of debate I decided to do this from the perspective of one of the other recruits from Venice.

* * *

I still remember my last day with Master Casimiro. I carefully made my way over the wall of his courtyard as usual, and as I dropped to the ground he stepped out of the shadows. He had been waiting for me, a piece of parchment in hand.

I greeted him absently, my left ring finger folded against my chest as I gave a quick bow, looking around for signs as to what we'll be training with today. No targets, practise dummies or weapons adorned the plain courtyard. The door to the Master's house was closed.

"A letter came for you Enrico" Master Casimiro told me calmly, and I straightened, puzzled. There was an edge to his voice but I could not identify it. He handed me the letter wordlessly and I read it. The handwriting was not familiar to me. It was sharp and quick, but neat and well-composed. His words were formal but friendly, hinting of a noble upbringing, but tainted with street life. As I read the words I built a good image of the man in my mind. Interpreting the written word has always been my greatest strength.

"From Master Ezio?" I asked, catching the name at the bottom of the letter. It was a request for me to join him in Roma. Master Casimiro nodded.

"Yes. He has begun to rebuilt the Brotherhood in Roma. He wants experienced Assassins by his side."

I read the letter again.

"So soon after...? He's quite daring. Who else did he ask for?" I asked the Master, trying to piece together what I could. I've heard of Ezio of course; he spent much time in Venice though we had no contact with him. He was Giovanni's son, and his eldest brother had been extremely promising in his training before the Auditore execution. Ezio had done much even before his initiation into the Brotherhood- he was the one who killed the Doge of Venice and his successor.

"He asked for you and Francesco by name. We will be sending Fillipo and Master Luca to accompany you."

"Francesco...?" All of this seemed too much a coincidence. "Is it wise for him to return to Roma so soon after...?"

"It is his choice if he wants to go of course. You have the option as well. I will give you this week to decide and prepare. If you decide to go, come back as soon as possible so we can come up with a cover story for your leaving."

I found Francesco at his family's house and we left for our favourite spot, the tower overlooking the Thieve's guild.

"What do you think?" I asked him as he offered a hand to help me up to the top. We took our seats at the edge of the shingled roof, our feet dangling above empty air.

"He found Augusto's daughter." Was Francesco's reply. It was short, curt, and I could tell that it troubled him. The name caught me by surprise, and I leaned back to stare up at the sky. It was dark and grey- it was was probably going to rain.

"How'd he find her? The Zanovellis fled after the incident."

"She was apparently in Roma. He's training her."

I swung back up to a sitting position to stare at him.

"No way." It's a small world it seems.

"I think that's why he asked for us two specifically. He wants her to hear what happened."

We were both silent for a long time as we stared out over the city. An eagle flew past us, its latest catch clutched between its talons.

"I don't know about you, but I..." My fists were clenched and I suddenly found myself trying to keep calm, my training holding back the anger. "I don't feel like talking to..."

"...to the daughter of the man who killed your father? Yeah, I get you. You don't have to go."

"Are you going?"

"Yes."

There was more silence between us and I sighed as I got up to my feet. I hopped off the edge of the roof, turning and catching the edge before I could fall.

"I'll think about it. A change of scene might be nice. I heard that it doesn't stink so much in Roma." I tried to sound lighthearted as Francesco looked over the edge down at me.

"I heard his hideout's next to the river, so don't count on it. You're leaving already?"

I nodded.

"I'm going home. I have to give Mother a say in all this; I would be leaving her alone if I go."

He stayed up on the tower as I made my way down to the Thieve's guild. I ran into Rosa and her son Federico briefly on the way home.

"Make sure to punch that _idiota_ for me if you go." She asked of me. "Ezio hasn't visited for months."

I promised her that I would with a laugh.

My Mother urged me to go, despite my misgivings.

"Go, drive those Templar bastards from Roma. Hit them where it hurts most." She told me, a hand on my shoulder, a determined look on her face. I glanced past her to what she was working on, the beginnings of new Assassin Robes. I could tell from the shape of the hood's collar that it was meant for me. It was the style my father favoured. She noticed me gazing at her work and she drew herself up proudly.

"For when you go. Something that fits Roma's fashion better than what you have."

I found myself chuckling.

"It doesn't matter _mamma_." I told her with a smile. "They're not going to be appreciating my clothing before I kill them."

"So you're going then." She said, a twinkle in her eyes. I placed with own hand on her shoulder with a laugh.

"I guess so."

I don't know how mother talked me into it, but in our short exchange I had my mind made up. Part of me was curious to find out more about this legendary Ezio, who escaped the Pazzi conspiracy that killed one of our most skilled of Brothers.

"You'll learn much from him, things I will never be able to teach you." Master Casimiro told me the next day as I informed him of my decision.

"Oh? I've never heard of one who deserved such high praise from you."

I blocked his sword with mine, and we both disengaged for a fraction of a second before jumping back in. Our blades were not dulled; my Master had always insisted that it was the best way to train.

"High praise?" He barked out a laugh. "The kid's certainly talented I can imagine. He's got Auditore blood, that family gave us some of the best we've seen."

I found myself desperately slapping his sword aside before it could skewer me. Always I wonder if the master would follow through his attack if I ever missed a block. Sometimes I still wonder if the Master would hesitate at all to kill me.

"Kid?" I echoed, counterattacking aggressively.

"Well, not anymore. Damn that was fast, I still remember the day they killed Giovanni. Guess Ezio's in his forties now huh? Anyways, what's so valuable about his training is that he's different. Didn't even join the Order till a decade after he started training with the last Mentor. You'll see the world from both sides." He caught my sword and with a wicked grin twisted it aside. It took all of my training to keep hold of the handle of my blade as I winced against the strain on my wrist. I twisted with the direction of the attack and broke free.

"Both sides? Isn't he of the Brotherhood?"

I saw his trap only after he followed through his risky manoeuvre. I felt his feet catch mine, and I rolled with my momentum to avoid tripping, but in the following exchange of blows I could not win with my disadvantageous position. A few seconds later I found myself sprawled on my back, the tip of his sword at my throat.

"Technically, but he works...differently from us. He might just need your help more than he thinks." He threw his sword aside and offered me a hand. I accepted it and pulled myself back to my feet. "That man's worked by himself for years. He's built his own information networks, gained his own allies...but I don't think he ever learned to use the full resources of the Brotherhood. He has never even worked with a team on an assassination." We grabbed the towels Master Casimiro's wife left out for us and wiped off the sweat of the training.

"You want us to teach him?"

"If he had not called for support we would have sent some eventually. He's rebuilding Assassin power in Roma. If he is to lead, then he must learn our ways. This is too important. We can't afford another mistake in Roma. This is why we're sending Master Luca. A mentor for him, if you will."

I could imagine. We lost many brothers in the wake of Perotto and Augusto's betrayal. Not only did they kill many Brothers, the Templars ruthlessly hunted down all our Brothers and Sisters and supporters within Roma. Rebuilding had been hard. The Courtesans no longer listened to us up until recently, and La Volpe had to move to Roma in order to bring the Thieve's guild back, abandoning the one in Firenze to another less capable. If Ezio were to slip, to make a mistake, all our work over the past two years would be gone.

"So, concerning that story. I've talked to Master Luca. You four have been commissioned by the Venetian army. You're being sent to Milano. After you reach Forli, you can get to Roma overland. We've decided that it's best you take care of the forgeries."

I nodded. An army commission wouldn't be that difficult to make. I knew where to find the seals, and I could forge all the signatures I need. They won't miss us after we reach Milano.

"Good, get that prepared by the day after tomorrow. We want you ready to leave as soon as possible."

Roma definitely lacked the beauty of Venezia. We met Ezio in the south of the city, in the poorer areas of Roma. A safehouse the Thieves have lend us for this very purpose is where we stayed for the next few days. We climbed up onto the roof to drop down into the abandoned house whose door had long ago been barred from entry.

Ezio was much like I imagined him. He greeted us warmly, and the old Master Luca seemed to approve of him. Over the next days Ezio tested our abilities -and our allegiance, for he had to be sure we were the Assassins he sent for and not Templar agents- and we got to know some of his recruits before finally he revealed to us the location of his own safehouse, an abandoned warehouse on Tiber Island.

His "recruits" were mostly a ragged band of civilians. The Role of Assassin is usually passed from parent to child, so training so many outsiders was unprecedented. Still, it was a good decision for I could see that they all had great stakes in this fight.

Already I could see Francesco making friends. There was Cipriano Enu, who was apparently a new addition to the Brotherhood in Roma, and drew much curiosity from us. His skin was dark, nearly black -rumours amongst the recruit says that he was all that survives of a band of Brothers in Africa somewhere- and he wore robes that were obviously not of Italia. His skills with his odd bow is unmatched, and I wonder if perhaps he could have beaten even Master Perotto in a contest of archery.

And then there was Tessa and Zita. I knew that somewhere, there were female Assassins, but I never thought much of it. I'm afraid I underestimated the both of them, for Tessa beat us at every pickpocketing assignment Ezio tested us with. And Zita...she was a decent freerunner, and was faster than me though she could not uphold her speed for any amount of time.

Ah Zita...Ezio did not press us for the first few days but when he saw that me and Francesco actively avoided having to talk to her he stepped in. He held us back after dinner one night, and led the three of us to a side room.

"I have gathered all I could about the night your father died Zita. Francesco was there, as well as Enrico's father. They are free to keep their silence but it is my wish they fill in what they can."

The night her father killed mine...

* * *

AN: Something about an old experienced Assassin ranting about how much of a newb Ezio is amuses me, though I cut down on the rant by a lot. But if you think about it, it's true. Ezio's pretty much always worked alone, so Casimiro has the right to be skeptical of his ability to lead a group of Assassins

Animus files: These stories should have started in June 1501. Caterina was released from the Castel St'Angelo June 1501 according to wikipedia, so he started taking recruits after that...I'll go fix that when I have time

The Venetian Army helped the Swiss take over Milan, which is why they're taking that cover story. They only really need something to take them out of Venice without suspicion, so even if they won't get far with the false documents they're fine. Probably.


	6. The Betrayals of Perotto and Augusto

AN: Last chapter for a while. I'm going back to China over the summer. I was debating keeping this story out as it focuses too much on one of my OCs rather than the Brotherhood experience, but in the end I decided that I wanted to get this story written somehow.

Zita's POV

* * *

I grew up in the northern city of Agnadello. I was an only child, my mother having fallen ill after giving birth to me. She never really recovered, staying ill ever since.

My Father Augusto owned the Pigeon Post for the small town, providing contact with most of the major cities within and around Italia. I helped myy father train and take care of them, and I learned to live with them. They are beautiful birds, truly, and their ability to find their way home always is unerringly accurate. They recognized their home as the coop we provided for them, but their food source as coops from other cities. In this way they make reliable round trips twice a day. Others who are destined for farther destinations must be manually brought back after a flight.

It was a simple life. Our family was well off, my uncle owning a successful merchanting business in Roma. Father was never very religious, and took me out every Sunday around the city. I didn't know back then, but he was training me. All the fun we had climbing the buildings of our neighbourhood, taking jumps down into piles of leaves father would gather beforehand- it was all just fun and games. He even taught me to open locks without its key, and the secrets of separating a man from his coin pouch. It had always seemed curious to me that father would know of such things but I never suspected that Father was an Assassin. He never told me or my mother of his identity.

xXxXxXx

"Your father was our main source of communication with Brothers outside Italia. When he became a fully fledged Assassin, he took his only child -you- as his apprentice. You were to take his place." Ezio began. Enrico and Francesco stayed silent, and I wondered why they seemed so tense.

xXxXxXx

I still remember catching glimpses of white-robed men coming to meet my father, but I never saw more of them than just that; glimpses. They were like shadows, always darting just around the edge of my vision.

Then one day came a man in those same white robes. He slipped into the front of the post office where father was sorting through the incoming mail. I was in the backroom cleaning the coop, and I listened in to their conversation using the skills father taught me. The man's name was Perotto, and he informed my Father that he was going to Roma. Father wished him luck and the two hugged like close brothers, though I have never seen the man.

xXxXxXx

"Perotto was your father's friend; they trained together. Perotto was a master of deception and they sent him to infiltrate the Borgia family. The Brotherhood learned a lot through him." Ezio explained to me. "He managed to become a messenger for the family, and got very close to them"

"My Master fell in love." Francesco cut in, sounding bitter. "Somehow Lucrezia Borgia stole his heart. He hid this from us even as his child grew within her womb."

I hid my surprise the best I could. Lucrezia Borgia? The Pope's daughter?

"The child was dying when he was born. Perotto grew desperate, heading for Agnadello where he believed there's a cure hidden there by the brothers." Ezio continued. "The Brothers tried to stop him. He had many of the Borgia's men after him. Perotto cut down and wounded many of the Brothers. Your father joined him."

xXxXxXx

One night in 1948 me and Mother were having dinner, wondering where Father was. He left on an errand and hasn't been back yet. I was ready to go look for him at the Post when he stumbled into the room.

Father was a mess. He wore long white robes, sporting a red sash belt over which was a feathered teardrop insignia. He was hurt, clutching at his side where blood seeped out from a deep wound. I leaped to me feet to help my father, who refused to sit down. He pulled off the hood that obscured his face and pushed his bloody sword at me. I was shocked to feel the warm blood on its handle, sticking to my palm.

"They're after me. You must run. Now. Zita, go to the Pigeon Post and take what money you can with you. Leave Agnadello. Go to Roma. Find a man named Niccolo Machia- no, no, not him...Emilio! Emilio Abete. Don't look for your uncle!"

"What's going on?" I cried but he hushed me, deftly tying a small plain dagger at my belt. There was a pained grimace on his face- I knew his wound was grievous. Mother stood at the back of the room, her hand over her mouth in shock.

xXxXxXx

"But why?" I asked, not understanding. Why would my father betray the Brotherhood like that?

"Because he felt as many of the former Brothers within Agnadello feels. He believed Perotto's son should be given a chance to live and the Brotherhood was holding back the means to save the child's life." Francesco explained to me.

"Perotto and Augusto could not understand the danger of the relic's power. Perotto forced his way through to the Shroud of Turin and used it on his child. Augusto was injured and he fled, presumably to find you and your mother." Ezio continued. I was finding it hard to wrap my mind around the idea of this magical artifact, this cloth with the image of Jesus upon it said to heal all wounds.

"That was when he killed my father." Enrico cut in, the first thing he had said all night. My eyes widened in shock and I stared down at my lap awkwardly.

"O-oh...I'm sorry."

I couldn't imagine my father killing anyone, even less an ally.

xXxXxXx

"No, just listen to me. Go to Roma, find the man named Emilio Abete- he works at the Inn Focolare. He will take you in. Keep your mother safe, watch over her." Father told me forcefully, striding across the room to grab my Mother's hands. She looked up at him, desperate for answers.

"_Amore mio_, I'm so sorry." He kissed her, and mother clung to him in a tight hug as if afraid she was going to be blown away. He pulled himself away and guided Mother to me.

"I don't understand!" I cried.

"The less you know the safer! Now go, take your mother and run! They are after me, not you. My blood with satisfy them but you must leave! Keep your mother safe and go to the shop, now!"

xXxXxXx

"We tried to find you afterwards." Francesco explained, the words coming more easily to him as he explained the night's events, almost seeming relieved to finally get it out. From this point he had all but taken over the story from Ezio. "But you were gone."

"Father sent us away. He was scared you'd come after us." I answered, trying to sort through my mix of feelings. I could barely look at Enrico, who looked pained at the recollections.

"I don't get it. We would never do that. Even if he turns against the order and kills a Brother we would never hurt his family. He would know that." Francesco replied with a frown.

"I don't know...maybe he was just panicking. He probably never meant to kill anyone." I whispered.

xXxXxXx

I grabbed mother's arm and ran out of the house in a panic. My hand was covered in my father's blood and the blood that was on his sword. I couldn't think clearly, unsure of what the danger was but knowing that our lives were at stake. Mother was terrified, but allowed me to lead her freely. I took her down several alleys and side paths that I knew so well now from my excursions with Father and we ended up at the Post. It was locked for the night but I have picked this particular lock so many times that I was hardly slower at opening it than if I had the key or even proper tools.

I found the locked box where we kept our earning and I was surprised to see the rather large sum within it. Within it was also a key, and a quick note. It was addressed to me, and it told me the location of a chest hidden in the wall. Mother waited for me at the front, standing there as if in a daze. I found the chest and opened it, and within were white robes like those of my father's, and though at the time I could not understand now I know they must have been in my size. That chest was my inheritance as a daughter of the Assassin Order. I took only what I thought I would need, so I left most of it behind. The robes, the half-cape, the blade and bracer, the throwing knives, sword, dagger...everything. I did not think I would need the weapons -I did not know how to wield them- but I kept the sword and dagger my father had given me. I could not let them go.

We left Agnadello in the dark of night. We could hear commotion on the streets behind us but we dared not stop to investigate. We travelled quickly, for the roads were dangerous. A little over an hour later we stumbled into another small town, Torlino Vimercati. Neither me nor mother understood what had happened, but Father's words and warnings drove us onwards. Though during the run I had allowed my sole focus be on reaching the next town, somewhere safe, once we were within her walls I hugged mother and cried.

I would never see father again. His words and his tone told me that. "My blood will satisfy them" he had told me, and I knew that whoever was after him and us, Father would stay and hold them off, give his life for ours. I had always known there was something more to Father than he let on -his training for me was not the standard knowledge of a simple pigeon trainer. I just never expected...this.

xXxXxXx

"We found him after we...after we killed Perotto. Early in the morning. He had taken his own life. Poison." Francesco explained, ending the story. I found myself staring down at my feet, feeling angry and guilty and ashamed. I could not believe that my father could do such things...he had to have had good reason...

But I've come to respect the Brotherhood. I believed Ezio's words. Francesco was in a similar position to me, his master having betrayed us as well. And Enrico...I don't know, surely I don't owe him for my father's actions but...

"After that you and your mother made your way all the way to Roma?" Ezio asked, and I nodded.

"Mother died shortly after we came here. I think she just...gave up."

xXxXxXx

The following morning we heard rumours from Agnadello. White hooded men fighting each other. The deaths of many of them. Some names surfaced. One woman came into our inn early in the morning, asking if any had seen her missing husband. She broke down when she heard one of the names. I still remember clearly the name though I knew not the man. Vincenzo. Me and mother did our best to comfort her.

We found a caravan headed south for Firenze. I paid them some of the coin father left us and we were given a spot on one of their carriages. We arrived three days later and spent the day finding a caravan to Roma. We arrived at the city four days later.

Mother's health declined drastically during our trip. She ate less and less and stopped talking to me or anyone else. She was mourning over my father, I knew, and I was worried about her. When we reached Roma, I barely stopped to look at the vast city, so different from our small town. I asked around and found the Inn father mentioned.

It was burnt down. Only days ago. The man named Emilio Abete, the owner of the Focolare had been arrested for treason and conspiring with the enemies of the papacy. No doubt his dead body hanged at the gallows. In my desperation I tried to locate my Uncle. He had gone missing- I would learn years later that he had fled but was hunted down and killed.

Today I wonder how Father had not anticipated such a thing. He sent us to Rome because it was the heart of Templar power, and he had known, had expected the Borgia to purge the presence of Assassins out of the city following Perotto's betrayal that revealed the Assassins so spectacularly in Roma. He sent us to Rome so that the Assassin Order would not reach me. So how did Father not anticipate the death of a dear friend of his, one who had been working in league with the Assassins for years?

Most likely it was simple lack of time and planning. Father had been thinking on the spot, had not thought things through. The result was me and Mother stranded in a city we did not know, with no allies or friends, nothing to turn to. We found another Inn and we settled there as we tried to figure out what to do. Mother's health was declining drastically, and she was refusing to eat. The doctors could do nothing for her.

Meanwhile I tried to find work. The money father left us was quickly dwindling, despite my best efforts to conserve it. It was difficult as a woman. I managed get into a tailor's place, as apparently working with clothing is more acceptable for one of my gender, but the pay was poor and we were still running out of money. I even sold Father's sword, though it hurt to part with one of the few things I had left from him.

I grew more and more desperate. Until one day, as a rich merchant entered the shop and made his order, I finally gave in. I quietly relieved him of his coin before he could pay. My master was furious when he learned that the man had come in and made such grand orders without bringing money. The merchant was aghast at how he had lost his purse, and the two very quickly began yelling at each other in a mighty row.

I panicked and ran for it. I was afraid of getting caught. The punishments for thieving were severe, and I was terrified of what may happen to me. But soon I realized what I had just gained myself. The money I had managed to steal was a month's worth of food and lodgings for me and Mother.

Even longer when Mother passed away.

I was suddenly alone. And convinced that both the tailor and the Merchant had figured out who the culprit of their misunderstanding was, I felt that I could not go clean safely anymore. I used what money I could spare to give Mother humble but proper last rites, and began my life on the streets.

I had other options of course. But there was no way in hell I could become a Nun -my father's lack of spirituality rubbed off on me- and I couldn't bring myself to get anywhere near places like the Rosa in Fiore. I still had my dignity.

I never joined a thieve's guild. Part of me felt that if I did, I would fully cross the line into the underworld and be forever denied my place in the light. I always felt that once I got myself enough money, I'd leave and start a new proper life somewhere else. Maybe Venezia, which I heard was a beautiful city. Of course it was a false hope. I rarely had enough to keep myself fed.

Life was hard. I would have likely died soon if I had not tried to pick the master's pocket.

xXxXxXx

I found Enrico afterwards. Francesco went up for bed and Ezio left the hideout in full Assassins Robes. Enrico was left standing in the corner of the ceremonial hall, staring up at the large assassin's Flag on the wall. He knew I had come; his training would not let him be caught unaware but he did not react as I stepped up to his side.

"You don't have to apologize." He told me gruffly, and I hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't shrug it off, and I took it as a good sign.

"Come on, let's get some rest." He told me, turning around. "The Master intends to send us on a mission soon, we need to be ready whenever he needs us."

I don't know what possessed me, but I stepped in and wrapped my arms around him. I pulled him close in a tight hug, and tears began to well in my eyes. I couldn't believe his forgiveness.

"Thank you." I sobbed into his shirt.

He seemed flustered for a moment before awkwardly patting me on the back and gently pried me off. I was embarrassed and self-conscious as I made for the room I shared with Tessa, and that was probably the day I fell in love with him.

* * *

AN: Yay complicated family history.

Animus Files: Carrier Pigeons are pretty awesome. As I mentioned in the text itself, they can be trained to recognize one coop as its home and one coop as its source of food so it will fly up to twice a day between the two


	7. Work in the Dark

AN: In China at the moment. Was bored. from this point on most of the short stories will be much shorter, just little episodes and incidents. Might have some longer ones here and there.

This one's from Tessa's POV

* * *

I was in my workshop when Ezio came looking for me. Already my work had changed the arsenal used by Ezio and consequently his apprentices. The poison he had been using for years was clumsy work, a simple overdose of a common painkiller. Its effects are hard to control, and not always lethal. It's no wonder he hasn't relied very heavily on poison for his career. He doesn't seem to understand the sheer potential of what properly used herbs and minerals could do.

I heard him coming, so before he could knock I told him to wait outside. I had to be careful who came into my workshop and how. With the nature of my work we can't afford any accidents. I had just finished my work, so I took my time cleaning up my workspace before removing the damp mask I covered my nose and mouth with. Only after cleaning my hands thoroughly did I finally slip out the door.

"You called?" I asked, closing and locking the workshop behind me.

"I need your help." He threw me something and I caught it without thinking. It was a sword. Drawing it I saw that it was guarded. So a practise blade.

"I'm not the one you're looking for if you want someone to train your novices." I told him, sheathing the sword and handing it back.

"It's not them I'm worried about. You know Francesco?"

I nodded; of course I do. With the batch that came from Venezia, he was the best of the lot. I competed with him in a pickpocketing challenge. I was a little disappointed with his performance, but at least he showed more promise in other areas.

"I'm not interesting in fighting him either." I told Ezio flatly. I would never admit it out loud, but Francesco was a better swordsman than me. Anyone who had much training at all was. I'm not exactly a warrior.

"You don't have to fight him." He handed me a small bag. I took it and looked inside. "There's just something he needs to learn."

xXxXxXx

Francesco looked doubtful when I challenged him to a sparring match, but he accepted it. He wasn't one to turn down a challenge. Marco and Pietro looked relieved for the break and I grinned when I saw the two of them nearly collapse onto the bench at the side of the room. Francesco had not been easy on them.

The room was small with a single window. It smelled of sweat and was stifling hot. It was the best we could do for a training room until we established some more safehouses around Roma. The Tiber Island Hideout was starting to become crowded, and it wasn't convenient for other branches of the Brotherhood to contact.

We stood several feet apart from each other in our ready stances, sword out. Already I knew Francesco could tell of my inexperience from the lack of strength with which I held my blade. I didn't care. The moment Marco signalled for us to begin I rolled aside to put distance between me and him and pulled my hand out of the bag Ezio had given me, now secured to my belt.

I held my breath and averted my eyes, throwing the smoke bomb at his feet. I dodged aside right away, for he had shifted his attack the moment I rolled so that he could come at me in my new position. The smoke caught him by surprise and his blade cut through nothing but air as I darted back in, tripping him to the ground. When the smoke cleared I had him on the ground, one arm uselessly pinned under him, and I ground my knee into his other elbow so that he could not move it. I had grabbed him by the hair, the point of a drawn unguarded dagger at his throat.

"Do you yield?"

"I yield." He replied, his voice strangled by a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and my blade at his throat. I sheathed the dagger, my sword forgotten on the ground as I offered him a hand to get him to his feet. He grudgingly accepted it.

"So what did we learn today?"

"You cheated."

"I _won_." I corrected him. "And you should have seen it coming. Our enemies aren't going to hold back and neither should you."

"I know, I know. You sound just like my old Master." He sighed. So Ezio wasn't the first to notice Francesco's bad habit of fighting _fair_. The man had some notion of honour and nobility in battle that will get him and his allies killed someday. Maybe getting his butt kicked by a girl will drive some sense into him? That's what Ezio was hoping for probably, but I feel that he needs a little more work.

I brushed myself off as I turned and headed out the door. I was looking forward to some fresh air.

"Everything is Permitted." I reminded him.

* * *

AN: Francesco eventually got the "fair fighting" beaten out of him seeing as how eventually he had no trouble using...less moral techniques. I wonder if it was Perotto who worked it out of him or as this suggests, Ezio had to deal with it.


End file.
